


someone as fortunate as i

by onceandforall



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Accidental Baby Acquisition, Children, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Kid Fic, M/M, Minor Kita Shinsuke/Miya Atsumu, Parenthood, Post-Time Skip, Uncle Akaashi Keiji, Uncle Miya Osamu, best brothers miya twins, but it's not really an accident
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-08
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-12 14:27:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28636998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onceandforall/pseuds/onceandforall
Summary: Osamu doesn’t have any plans to be a dad. But damn if he isn’t going to be the best uncle in the world.(And then realize some things along the way as well.)
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Miya Osamu
Comments: 42
Kudos: 219





	someone as fortunate as i

**Author's Note:**

> hey osaaka nation please take my humble offering of a baby au.... ive had crazy baby fever and channeled it all into this fic. 
> 
> i haven't even read time-skip yet (if i don't read it, hq doesn't end, right? _right?_ ) but osaaka (well, both of the miya twins) have taken me by storm. i love them so much!!!!!!! 
> 
> this was originally just supposed to be a small 5k fic of osamu holding a baby and then i wrote ..... so much more than 5k. hehehe it happens sometimes :) 
> 
> big thanks to [lia](https://twitter.com/kageyemas) for letting me talk about this fic nonstop and thank you, as always, to jen for the beta!!!! 
> 
> title is from retirement party's [runaway dog](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aC5vsqixGMc). it's a really good song, go check it out! 
> 
> hope you enjoy!!! 
> 
> once

“Shin-chan’s grandma is in the hospital,” Atsumu starts the phone call. It’s three in the morning and if Osamu didn’t already suspect that something was wrong from the timing of the call, he would have quickly realized from the way that Atsumu’s words pitter in and out of his breaths. It’s like he’s trying really, really hard to stay put together when he really, really isn’t. Osamu goes on high alert. “She’s okay, but she fell. She’s going to need some help and Mom and Dad are on a trip and you know I wouldn’t ask you this if we really, really didn’t need it, but—“

Osamu says yes. He’s always going to say yes to Atsumu, especially when Atsumu is so explicitly asking for help. Which is how Osamu and Keiji find themselves at five in the morning being passed a sleeping toddler.

Kita looks the worst out of all of them, which is startling considering that Kita is the one running on the most sleep (a sad four hours). Kita likes to hold all of his emotions close to his chest, safe and only for himself. But maybe because throughout the years Atsumu’s influence has worn its way through his heart, allowing him to be more open with others, let his trust show at face value. But maybe it’s because throughout the years Kita and Osamu have come to see each other as family rather than just former teammates. But maybe it’s because Kita doesn’t have the energy left in him to keep his cool facade up.

His grandmother raised him, after all.

But for whatever reason, Kita looks shaken and he shows it in the pallor of his face and by the way he’s leaning on Atsumu. Kita isn’t one for public displays of affection, no matter how small. Both he and Atsumu refuse Keiji’s offers of a seat or a glass of water and so they stand by the door, ready to go.

Kita explains, “We need to head back as soon as possible.”

“Thanks, again,” Atsumu says. He yawns and then puts an arm around Kita. Their daughter is fast asleep on the couch, unaware of the fact she’s not home. “She has everything in her bag for the week— but just let us know if you need anything. And she can’t have almonds, okay? She’s allergic.”

“Make sure she gets her naps in on time,” Kita adds and it’s the same spiel every time Osamu babysits his niece. Usually, he’s _Yea Yea I Know What I’m Doing She’s My Niece Too_ , but today he just lets them explain all the dos and don'ts of handling their daughter as if this is his first time looking after her. They seemed stressed enough and by the time they’re done giving their instructions, both Atsumu and Kita look a little more stable on their feet.

“I love you,” Atsumu whispers into his daughter’s dark hair. They’re saying their goodbyes. When they were children that beat each other up far too often over the pettiest of things, Osamu never once thought there was a paternal bone in Atsumu’s body. Atsumu and fatherhood were like oil and water: two things that could never be mixed. But everything about Atsumu is fatherly now and he says goodbye to his daughter like it physically pains him to leave her. It probably does: Atsumu really only gets to see his daughter in the off-season and Osamu has been on the receiving end of many of Atsumu’s lamenting phone calls to fully confirm the fact that Atsumu hates being so far away from his family.

Kita says goodbye in the same gentle, caring manner and then the two of the dally at the door, not wanting to leave their daughter quite yet. Osamu knows it’s nothing personal. They trust him, but it’s hard letting your child go. At least that’s what Osamu thinks is going through their heads.

“Text me when she wakes up,” Kita says, looking at Keiji. Keiji nods with the request. They have a weird friendship, the two of them. But a friendship nonetheless.

“I’ll send you updates every hour,” Keiji replies and Osamu knows that is something Keiji will actually stick to. Even now, the group chat between the four of them is often Keiji asking for baby updates and Kita and Atsumu being more than happy to supply them. For a family that keeps an incredibly low profile— Kita doesn’t have any social media and one would _never_ guess by looking at Atsumu’s profiles that he was married with an entire kid— they do love sharing photos of their daughter with their friends.

(Which, who wouldn’t? Sachi, their two year old, with her insanely round face, dark eyes and even darker hair, is the cutest thing that Osamu has ever laid his eyes on. And even though she looks exactly like Atsumu and by extension Osamu as well, Osamu isn’t being vain when he says she’s the most adorable looking baby. Sometimes Osamu wants to be the one posting her face all over social media, just so Osamu can rub it in everyone’s faces that he does, in fact, have the cutest niece in the entire world. But Atsumu is _strict_ in Sachi not being in any social media posts and Osamu doesn’t ever plan on testing Atsumu on that.)

“Well,” Atsumu says, standing in the doorway and shifting his weight from foot to foot. “See you in a week.”

Osamu nods. “See you in a week.”

And with one last look at their daughter, Kita and Atsumu leave. The door shuts with a solid, secure noise and Osamu locks up after them.

So much has happened for a day that hasn’t even started.

“Well,” Osamu says. Sachi is still sleeping on the couch. Later in the day Osamu is going to dig through their closets and find a proper futon for her to sleep on, but for now the couch will have to do. “Looks like we have a daughter now.”

Keiji laughs, and he wraps himself around Osamu’s back and lets himself hang there. Osamu leans back into his touch. “Just for a week,” Keiji says. “Let’s go back to sleep. Kita said she should sleep through the night, so we probably can sleep for a few more hours.”

Osamu tilts his head so he can kiss Keiji. It’s a soft kiss, Osamu’s favorite type of kiss. “Let’s sleep.”

* * *

Sachi is gracious and lets them sleep all the way until seven in the morning. It’s a wonder, really, with a father like Kita who is up before the sun is, that she’s able to sleep that long. Osamu gets up with her, arguing a bit with Keiji about it before Keiji finally relents and falls back asleep.

Osamu presses a kiss to Keiji’s forehead and then goes to find Sachi. The toddler is sitting up, the pillows they put on all sides of her acting as the safeguards they were supposed to. She instinctively reaches towards Osamu, still stubbornly hanging onto sleep, and Osamu presses her small body into his chest.

Sachi knows the difference between Atsumu and Osamu. At her first birthday party, she had thrown a _fit_ when she had called for her dad and Osamu had picked her up and not Atsumu, making Atsumu laugh so much he cried. Keiji has a video on his phone of her looking between the two of them with confusion written all over her face. She eventually realized Osamu was the one holding her. They were twins, sure, but Sachi knew which one was her father and which one was the one pretending to be her father.

But Sachi is still sleepy now, and Osamu lets her brain gather whatever pieces it wants to put together. She’s going to realize sooner or later she is not with her parents, but right now she just wants cuddles and Osamu is more than happy to indulge her.

Osamu bounces her gently, making his way slowly around the living room, his _Sh Sh Shs_ rhythmic and soothing. Sachi falls back almost immediately and Osamu is so glad for his well-tempered niece. He has heard the stories from his parents and his grandparents about the absolute nightmare that Atsumu and Osamu were when they were younger. When he was nineteen and hearing one of their absolute horrid stories for the first time, Osamu had gone directly to his mother and thanked her. She had just laughed him off.

And so Osamu is so thankful that Atsumu’s kid does not take after them.

Osamu knows he should put Sachi down to let her sleep a little longer while he starts getting ready for the day. He has to make breakfast, call into work and tell them he can’t make it in today, check in on Kita and Atsumu and see how everything is going. But Sachi is a tiny, warm ball against his chest, and he can’t bring himself to let her go. She breathes out and her breath is a small puff of air against his neck and Osamu’s chest _squeezes_.

Yeah, he’s not letting her go.

Osamu turns out to be quite adept with only one hand free. He remembers seeing an ad or two of wraps that mothers used as baby carriers. At the moment, he thought they were silly. Why couldn’t you just put your baby down? But now he completely sees the appeal of them.

Calling his restaurant is easy, though he’s assured that he should come into work anyway, just to say hi. Everyone loves Sachi and Sachi loves Osamu’s onigiri. Osamu laughs at the request and tells them maybe. He is scheduled to work the entire week, so maybe there will be time to bring her in.

Cooking proves to be a bit more difficult, mostly because Sachi wakes up and all but yells for her parents until Osamu gives her a small bowl of cooked rice to eat (read: play with), but it’s manageable.

By the time breakfast is ready, Sachi is fully awake and babbling, her face covered with bits of rice that missed her mouth. She’s still in her sleep clothes and needs a diaper change, but one thing at a time.

Keiji strolls into the kitchen, rubbing at his eyes. He doesn’t have his glasses on yet, probably because he’s misplaced them yet again. Keiji says he doesn’t really need them, but Osamu knows better. He’s seen the way Keiji squints when he’s trying to read something small. But right now, Keiji just walks right into Osamu’s chest and hugs him.

“Mornin,” Osamu greets. He laughs when Keiji’s mumbled _Morning_ gets lost in the embrace. Keiji is a cuddler, especially in the morning. “Food’ll be ready soon.”

Keiji sighs and detangles himself from Osamu. “How long has she been up?”

Osamu shrugs. He hasn’t really been paying attention to the time. “Twenty minutes, maybe?”

Keiji nods with the information. There’s already a cup of coffee waiting for him on the table and so he sits down next to Sachi and acts surprised when he sees her. “Sachi!” Keiji says, voice bright and all trace of his drowsiness gone. “Are you liking your rice?”

Sachi’s eyes go wide at Keiji’s appearance. Keiji has always been Sachi’s favorite uncle and at this point, Osamu isn’t even mad about it. Keiji is also his favorite.

“Keiji!” she yells, throwing her hands up in the air and making her empty bowl of rice go flying. It clatters to the table with a _thud_. Sachi and Keiji stare at the bowl, unsure of what to do. “Sorry? Oopsie.”

Keiji laughs and leans over to ruffle her hair. “It’s okay. Accidents happen. Do you want more food?”

“Yes.” Sachi nods her head vigorously. Her dark hair is a mess and Osamu adds _fixing Sachi’s hair_ onto the list of things he needs to do. Osamu already respects Kita, has respected him since they were both in high school and he was able to get Osamu and Atsumu to stop fighting with a single glance, but since Sachi was born, his respect has multiplied tenfold. Kita makes having a toddler an easy task.

Osamu already feels behind and the morning has only just begun.

“More rice,” Sachi says. She grabs her bowl and pushes it towards Keiji. “Please?”

Keiji smiles and accepts her bowl. “Of course. You’re so polite, Sachi.”

Sachi smiles at the compliment, the few teeth that she has on full display. Breakfast is a rather easy going affair. They don’t have any baby-sized utensils, but Keiji rifles around the bag her dads had sent and finds an appropriate sized spoon. Sachi happily munches on her food and Osamu and Keiji chat about what today and the upcoming week is going to look like.

They’re both working the entire week— neither of their jobs are very keen towards having days off, but Osamu has a bit of leeway because he’s the owner. Keiji still has to go into work, but he looks at his schedule and says he can probably come home around lunch time. Which means it’s going to be only Osamu and Sachi for the first half of the day.

They both can’t be working with Sachi, of course. But they can figure out the full schedule later.

“You could probably take her to the park,” Keiji says, watching as Sachi finishes the last of her food. Keiji reaches over with a napkin in his hand and wipes her face clean. They don’t have Sachi over often, but when they do they settle into a nice routine. “It’s good weather and you know she likes to—” Keiji pauses. “R- U- N,” he spells out.

One of Sachi’s favorite words is _run_. Osamu thinks it’s Atsumu’s fault, because he loves to strap his daughter into her stroller and take her running with him. And even on the off season, Atsumu still has to keep in shape. Plus being on the farm in the middle of nowhere means there is ample space to run. It was no wonder that after the millionth time of going running together, his daughter would also like to run.

Sachi, when given the chance to, will run until she completely tires herself out. If Keiji says the word, she’s going to become so excited that she’s going to throw a fit until she actually gets a chance to run.

Trust Osamu, he’s been on enough facetime calls where one of her dads accidentally says the Word to know.

“She can tire herself out and then be easier to put down for a nap,” Keiji reasons, as if Osamu even needed more convincing. Keiji takes a glance at the time displayed over the oven and stands up. “I’ll clean up. Do you want to go get her ready?”

Osamu nods. But before he does that, he knows her dads are probably waiting for a morning update. “Hey, Sachi,” he says leaning into her space. He pokes her gently on her arm before running his hand over her stomach in light, butterfly touches. She giggles. “Want to take a picture?”

“Picture?” Sachi asks. She nods, grinning.

Osamu takes out his phone and takes a quick photo of the two of them. They’re both smiling and Sachi’s shirt is covered in food— Osamu never found her bib, but then again he didn’t really look for it all too hard. He sends it to her dads and immediately he feels his phone vibrate with a response.

Osamu laughs at the quick reply and then picks up Sachi so they can both get ready for their day.

* * *

Osamu and Sachi take the day by storm. There is a part during the morning, Osamu is struggling to put her velcro shoes on when Sachi starts asking about her dads again. And Osamu doesn’t quite know what to say, but he explains it as best as he can.

“And then they’re going to be so happy to see you,” Osamu finishes, most of his attention on Sachi’s tiny feet. Do these shoes even fit? Does Osamu need to go out and buy her a new wardrobe? Who made baby shoes the most difficult thing on this planet to put on? “But for now it’s going to be Osamu and Keiji. Doesn’t that sound fun?”

Sachi brightens at the mention of Keiji’s name, as she always does. Earlier, when Keiji was getting ready to leave, Sachi wouldn’t let go of him, despite Keiji’s many reassurances that he would be back very soon. It took both of them, Keiji distracting her with his words, and Osamu surprise tickling her for Keiji to be able to get away. She was only sad about it for a little bit.

With the shoes on and secured, they start the day by passing Onigiri Miya, Osamu and Sachi both waving at everyone through the glass. They all looked thrilled to see Sachi— who wouldn’t be thrilled to see Sachi?— but Osamu knows if he stays long, he’s going to end up roped into doing some kind of work. And today is for Sachi and Sachi only.

The next stop is the playground a few streets away. Osamu’s never really been at the playground, but it’s on one of the routes he likes to take when he goes for a run (Okay, okay. So maybe Atsumu isn’t the only one with the running gene.), so he knows exactly where it is. But he thinks that all the equipment has grown exponentially since the last time he was here. There was no way the slide was ever that big. And there is just no way the swings ever swung that high.

It can’t be possible.

And don’t even get Osamu started on the kids here. They’re all huge and could easily trample Sachi down given the chance to. Is the park really the best idea? There has to be something else, something safer.

(Osamu is vividly reminded of the week Sachi learned how to walk. Osamu had been staying with Kita and Atsumu for the time, getting away from the city while Keiji went on a business trip to the other side of the country. He wasn’t physically there when she took her first step, but Atsumu shoved his phone, video already playing, into his hand the second he walked out of the guest bedroom that morning.

And then, in typical Atsumu fashion, he went into overdrive. Suddenly the entire house— no the entire _farm_ needed to be baby proofed. What if she walked right into the corner of the kitchen table and cut her head open? What if she wandered outside and somehow drowned herself in the rice paddies? Suddenly walking was the most dangerous thing that she could ever do.

Osamu had laughed and told him to get ready for when she started running. All the color drained out of Atsumu’s face.)

But Sachi starts getting restless when she sees the playground, wanting to be let down immediately. For the most part, Osamu has been carrying her, evenly balanced between the weight of Sachi on his right side and the weight of her diaper bag on his left side.

The moment her feet touch the ground, she is practically dragging Osamu towards the playground. She is strong for a two year old. Strong enough that a playground can’t hurt her— probably. They end up on the swings, Sachi chanting _higher higher higher_ and giggling when she goes flying in the air.

They spend close to two hours at the park, Osamu chasing around Sachi until she’s hungry and tired. She starts to fuss, her face scrunching up in what is soon to be tears, when Osamu scoops her up and settles her onto his hip. “Lunch time, huh?”

Osamu carries her back home, where they eat a quick lunch. Then after a diaper change, Sachi falls straight asleep. Osamu puts her on his and Keiji’s bed this time and cracks the door open when he leaves the room. She looks so tiny in the queen size bed, her chest rising and falling in steady movements.

But he only gets to the kitchen when he realizes he’s exhausted too. All the running around at the playground must have gotten to him more than he thought it would. It’s a type of work Osamu isn’t used to. He walks back into the bedroom and settles down right next to his niece.

Osamu tells himself that he only is going to rest his eyes for five minutes. He still has to clean up after their lunch and find their futon and get it ready for the night. Also, Keiji is going to be home soon and they need to talk more about logistics. Theoretically, Osamu could take the entire week off if they needed him to. But he knows Keiji went into work today with the plan to get himself a few days off as well.

They work so much, the both of them. Osamu can’t actually remember the last time either of them took the full day off. Even when Osamu isn’t scheduled to work, there is still so much work to do. There are phone calls to make, paperwork to be sorted, emails to check.

But the next thing that Osamu knows, he’s waking up and his body is pure heat. He always sweats in his sleep, to the point where the first thing he does most mornings is jump in the shower. But he’s not just hot from his own body heat. There’s another weight on his body and the first thing that he thinks is _Keiji?_

And then the second thing he thinks is _what time is it_?

But before Osamu can do anything, the weight on his chest moves and Osamu realizes the weight is Sachi. She’s awake already, keeping herself busy with something she found in the bed folds. It turns out to be Osamu’s phone. She hasn’t been able to unlock it or anything, but she does have the camera up and pointed to her face.

“Sachi, what are you doing?” Osamu asks. He couldn’t have slept long, but he knows the nap was needed. He feels better already, refreshed and ready to take on the second half of the day. Babies have the right idea with their daily naps.

Sachi jumps at the mention of her name. She hadn’t realized that Osamu had woken up. She almost drops the phone, but manages to hold onto it tight. “Osamu awake! Awake! Awake!” She half-jumps with each word, putting all of her weight onto Osamu’s chest. He wheezes with the motion because Sachi might be small, but she is mighty.

“Gentle, gentle,” Osamu says, sitting up. Sachi beams at him, all smiles and wide eyes and messy hair. Osamu’s heart melts into a puddle of goo and adoration. This kid is going to be the death of him.

He manages to get Sachi out of the bed and the second her feet hit the ground, she’s running, Osamu’s phone still in her hand. He doesn’t bother chasing after her and instead takes a few moments to fix up the bed again. Keiji isn’t particular about a lot of things— he’ll leave his toothpaste in the sink for _days_ without realizing that he was the one to leave it there— but he always makes their bed in the morning. Always.

With the bed remade, Osamu walks out of the bedroom to the living room. To no surprise, Sachi is there. But to his surprise, Keiji is also there. How long did Osamu sleep to miss Keiji coming home?

“Keiji!” Sachi drops Osamu’s phone (She’s on a rug and she’s small, so the fall isn’t much of an actual fall. But still, _ouch._ ) and sprints to where Keiji is standing by the couch. He smiles as he leans to pick her up. He twirls her around for a few seconds, Sachi’s loud giggles bouncing around the room. Then he kisses the top of her head and puts her back down on the ground.

“Want up,” she pouts, holding both of her hands up. She makes grabby hands at Keiji. “Again. Please?”

Her little _please_ seems to do it for Keiji because he laughs, picks her up, and twirls her once more. Keiji and Osamu are truly the uncles that can’t help but spoil their only niece. Sachi is going to become such a brat by the time she leaves and Osamu isn’t going to regret it at all.

This time, Keiji doesn’t set her back down on the ground. Sachi settles herself on Keiji’s side, leaning into his chest and smiling. “Keiji nice,” she says.

Keiji blushes. It’s a good look on him: the flush starts on his cheeks and grows until half of his face is a red bloom of color. Osamu’s phone is still on the ground, hopefully without a crack, or else he would have already taken a photo of the moment.

“Keiji is the nicest, isn’t he?” Osamu agrees. Osamu walks over to Keiji and Sachi, picking his phone up along the way. He smiles at Keiji. Then he leans over and presses his lips quickly to Keiji’s. “How was work?”

Keiji shrugs. “Too many meetings.” His glasses begin to fall off of his face. (Osamu has been telling him for weeks that he needs to make an appointment to get them fixed, but he keeps shrugging Osamu off, telling Osamu _I’m busy. Maybe next week_. Keiji and his glasses do not get along.) Osamu is quick to push them back up Keiji’s face. He leans close to him again, kissing Keiji one more time, a little longer.

Too long, apparently, because Sachi starts to become restless, squirming around in Keiji’s arms. They part and Keiji puts her down on the ground. Which, apparently, she doesn’t want. A second later she’s making grabby hands towards Osamu, her wide eyes pleading to be let up.

“Up please,” she says and who is Osamu to deny his niece something as simple as being carried? When she’s up in his arms, she leans the top of her head towards Osamu. She gets so many kisses on the top of her head that she already knows the movement to do when she wants someone to kiss her. Osamu laughs and then kisses the top of her head.

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” Osamu teases and Sachi grins at him. She’s smart and she knows exactly how to play her uncles. She already runs circles around both her dads. They’re all going to have their hands full when she gets older.

Keiji says, “I was able to get tomorrow and the next day off.” He pushes his glasses up his face again. “So I can hang out with Sachi while you go to work.” Keiji reaches over and taps one of Sachi’s socked feet. Her socks are bright pink with unicorns on them today. All of her socks in her bag have unicorns on them. “How about that, Sachi? Want to hang out with Keiji tomorrow?”

Sachi grins and nods. She doesn’t need anything more than the mention of Keiji’s name to agree to something. Osamu and her have that in common.

It’s nice, this domesticity between the three of them. Lately, life has been going at such a fast pace that Osamu barely had time to breathe, let alone enjoy time with Keiji. Both Osamu and Keiji share a bad habit of working themselves to the bone and then some, and their jobs don’t make it any easier to get a break. Osamu has tried to be better about it over the years, but it’s a hard habit to let go of.

But then Atsumu called in the early hours of the morning, frantic and worried. And now Sachi is here, pressing a pause on their lives. They have to take days off, take life at a slower pace.

It’s funny how Atsumu had only called this morning. It feels much longer than that, but time always has a funny way of working.

Sachi laughs at something. Osamu presses another kiss into her hair and then has the horrible realization that other than this morning, he hasn’t sent any pictures of her to her dads.

Atsumu is going to kill him, if Kita doesn’t get to him first.

* * *

“You’ll call me if you need anything, right?” Osamu asks, keys twirling in his hand. He has a couple minutes to spare before has to leave, but he really, really doesn’t want to leave. Would it be so bad if he called the store manager and told her he couldn’t make it in?

It wouldn’t be the end of the world, right?

Keiji nods. They’ve been going back and forth for the past minute and Osamu can tell by the way Keiji’s lips are starting to press together that his amusement is becoming something more like annoyance. “Sachi and I will be fine, Osamu. Now leave, please.”

Osamu leans forward and presses his lips to Keiji’s for the fifth time in two minutes. “Have a good day.”

Keiji smiles. “You too.”

Sachi, on the floor in the living room, screams as the toys she was stacking on each other tumble to the ground. Their place isn’t meant for babies, but they do have some toys stacked here and there just waiting for the times Sachi comes to visit. Plus, Kita had the foresight (And Osamu knows that this was Kita’s doing) to pack some of her favorite toys with her.

And then Osamu is out the door. He expects work to pass by fairly uneventfully. There are papers to fill out and schedules to work out and food to prepare; nothing out of the ordinary.

But that’s not really the case: even though the store has yet to be opened, everyone keeps asking questions about Sachi and Osamu only has so many answers.

Well, everyone meaning _one_ person. But she asks enough questions to be considered at least three people. (She also does enough work for three people. That’s another story, though.)

“Sachi has gotten so big,” Nazikian, the general store manager, says. Out of everyone in the store, she’s the one that knows Sachi the best. Nazikian and Osamu have been working together since before Sachi was born. “I feel so old when I say this, but I feel like I’m going to blink and she’s going to be a teenager.”

Osamu laughs. He remembers being a kid and being picked and prodded at every time they went to a family function. _Growing like a weed, aren’t you?_ someone would say. _You need to stop getting bigger, someone_ else would say. Osamu at the time found it incredibly annoying. (He found it even more annoying when Atsumu and him were growing unevenly. For a while there Atsumu was the tallest of the two and Osamu loathed whenever it was pointed out.) He was just a kid, doing what kids do: grow.

But he gets it now. Part of him wants Sachi to stay this small forever, wants to be able to make her easily laugh with a dumb face. He wonders when he got so damn paternal for a child that is not even his. “Let’s not talk about my niece being a teenager,” he jokes. “I already have enough on my hands.”

“What is she doing with you?” Nazikian asks. She seems to think her question is a bit out of the blue, because she follows it up with: “I only ask because you’re scheduled to work this week and I know that if your family was in town you would have taken it off.”

Osamu shrugs, not knowing how much detail is needed to satisfy Nazikian. Sometimes Nazikian takes only _Yes_ and _No_ for an answer. Sometimes she’s the world’s worst gossip. It’s a flip of a coin, really. “There was an emergency on Kita’s side of the family,” Osamu starts. “It was kind of last minute, so Sachi is with me and Keiji for the week.”

Nazikian lights up. “The whole week? D’ya think you can bring her in for a day? Like, in in? I would love to say hi.” Osamu is sure that the entire store would like to say hi. Most of them know about Sachi, in one form or another. But they (Aside from Nazikian, of course) just know her as Osamu’s niece and that’s something that he doesn’t want to change.

Nazikian’s excitement seems to have infected the rest of the morning staff, and they all start crowding around the two of them. Osamu laughs at the little group they form.

“Whatcha so lively for, Nazikian?” one of the cooks asks.

“Miya said he’s going to bring in his niece,” Nazikian supplies, smiling. The small crowd around them _Oohs_ and _Aws._ “Though I think we have to ask nicely first.”

“Is that the baby from yesterday?” one of the waitresses asks. “Are we going to say hi?”

Osamu knows that there is no way to get out of this. Nazikian smiles at him, coy. She’s really the most troublesome of the entire staff, but it’s all in good faith. Osamu knows that he could easily put his foot down and she would immediately back away. But bragging about his cute niece is very appealing.

“Maybe later this week,” Osamu says. “We got some plans, but if we’re free, this will be the first place that we stop by.”

“Cutest baby you’ll ever see,” Nazikian announces. And then she shoos everyone away. “C’mon, though. We got work to do. We open in fifteen.”

Osamu laughs again and then Nazikian tells _him_ to get to work. And so he gets to work. He knows better than to go against Nazikian’s orders.

* * *

Osamu gets home a bit later than he had meant to. He had sent Keiji a text the moment he realized he was going to have to stay later, but he wasn’t sure if Keiji read it. Keiji only turns on his read receipts when he’s trying to be petty, so Osamu satisfies himself with the _Delivered_ message under his text.

By the time he gets home, he’s exhausted. He wants nothing more than to see his two favorite people (Atsumu is his de facto favorite person even if Osamu never really wants to admit it, right after Keiji, but Sachi quickly snatched up that number two title a mere five days after being born. So now the list looks like: #1 Keiji, #2 Sachi, #3… Tsumu), eat some food that is _not_ onigiri and then fall asleep quickly. Exactly in that order.

Osamu takes off his shoes, shrugs himself out of his coat, and heads to the part of the apartment that is the noisiest. It’s the bathroom and Osamu laughs at the sight Keiji and Sachi make.

Keiji is trying to make Sachi take a bath. _Trying_ being the key word there. In reality, Sachi is entertained by the bubbles and every time Keiji moves to put shampoo in her hair or wash her body with a washcloth, he gets splashed with a baby wave of water. A small wave of water might not seem much, but a little bit adds up. The ground is covered in water.

“Having fun in there?” Osamu asks, leaning against the open doorway.

It’s funny, how both Sachi and Keiji notice him at the exact same moment. Both of their heads turn with his words and both of their eyes widen when they see him. They don’t look alike— Sachi’s face is round and chubby, with droopy eyes and straight hair. Keiji’s all lean and sharp angles, his hair fluffy and slightly curly around the edges. But they do look a little bit like a family and Osamu’s heart feels like he has just run a marathon.

Sachi smiles and babbles something vaguely close to _Welcome home!_

Keiji is sopping wet and just looks defeated.

Sachi splashes in the tub again, completely unaware of the way she is making Keiji feel. The bathtub is filled with more bubbles than baby. Keiji must have gone hard with the soap. Oh, to be a baby and be allowed to do whatever you want, whenever you want. Osamu misses it, really.

“You look like you went into war and lost,” Osamu says and Keiji glares at him. Osamu laughs and makes his way to Keiji, moving the bath towel on the floor in such a way that when he sits down, he’s only greeted with a _little_ bit of wetness.

(It’s still a lot of wetness, but that’s to be expected when the entire floor is covered in water.)

“She likes splashing,” Keiji deadpans. Sachi splashes again with Osamu near. Osamu gets a faceful of water and sputters.

Sachi babbles happily in the tub. Kita had sent her with a few bath toys, and she plays now with a purple rubber unicorn and a red fox. They seem to be in some kind of fight, and Sachi is narrating the entire thing. Osamu has no idea what she’s saying.

Keiji wipes off Osamu’s face with a small towel. Osamu has no idea where he got it from, but Keiji always likes to be prepared, so Osamu is not too surprised by Keiji wiping off all the water from his face. “She’s going to get you soaking wet.”

Osamu laughs. “You say that like getting wet is the worst thing in the world.”

Keiji rolls his eyes. “Sorry— just. Taking care of children is _tiring_. It took me so long to get her to take a nap and then she only slept for thirty minutes. And she’s been in this bath for over an hour and she doesn’t want to get out. I’ve tried.”

Osamu grabs Keiji and pulls him close to his chest. Keiji moves without any resistance and tucks his head under Osamu’s chin. Osamu wraps his arms around Keiji. It’s not the most comfortable position: they are both still sitting in front of the bathtub, both a little bit too wet for comfort. But Keiji looks like he’s at his wit’s end and all Osamu wants to do is hold him.

So he does.

“You should have called me,” Osamu says, voice soft. Sachi is still entertaining herself, making the fox attack the unicorn over and over again. She’s even making her own sound effects. Another time, and Osamu would have been intrigued about the story she is telling. “I would have come home earlier if you needed me too.”

Keiji sighs. “Honestly I think I just really needed her to take her nap. And _work_. They kept trying to rope me into a phone conference. Don’t they know what a day off is?” Keiji scoffs, but because he’s tired it lacks the vitriol it normally does when Keiji is complaining about his work.

Osamu can relate. Work has been a bit hectic for him as well, even though he’s trying to make it not be as busy. But having a full plate seems to be an intrinsic thing for both of their jobs, whether they like it or not. These days have both been nothing but a steady stream of _workworkworkwork_.

“Work can suck it,” Osamu says. It’s a dumb, silly statement but if it makes Keiji laugh, then it will have done its job.

Keiji laughs, a soft thing. “That it does.”

Sachi drops the unicorn into the water and seems satisfied when it floats to the surface. Exactly what kind of story was she telling?

“What kind of baby doesn’t want to take her nap?” Keiji asks, looking at Sachi fondly.

“A bad baby,” Osamu says, tone light and teasing. Sachi looks as if she knows she’s being talked about. Her dark brown eyes are wide and she holds the fox, unmoving. The fox slips through her grasp and falls into the water. It floats alongside the unicorn. “Have you been a bad baby, Sachi?”

The response is immediate. Sachi shakes her head, hard. She doesn’t start tearing up, but her face starts to scrunch up in the way Atsumu’s face does when he’s upset about something but doesn’t want to admit that he’s upset about something. “No no no. No baby,” she says.

Osamu laughs. Of course that’s the part of the sentence she is stuck on. “Of course, you’re not a baby. Are you being a bad girl?”

Sachi shakes her head again. “Good girl.” She picks up the fox and shows Osamu and Keiji her toy, as if the toys prove that she’s a good girl.

“Ah, I see,” Osamu says. “Sorry I even mentioned something else.”

Sachi nods, agreeing.

“You know what good girls do?” Keiji asks. “They get out of the bathtub.”

Sachi’s face falls. There is a moment of conflict that passes across her face. Osamu can imagine her troubles. Taking a bath is really, really nice. But being a good girl— and being a good girl for _Keiji_ — is even better. Ultimately, Sachi nods. “Bath over?”

Keiji nods. “Bath over.”

“I can finish this,” Osamu says. They untangle themselves from each other. Osamu’s pants are soaking wet. “If you want to go lay down or something.”

“No, it’s okay.” Keiji shakes his head. “I’ve got this. Sachi and I got this bath, don’t we?”

Sachi smiles, all warmth, no ire at the thought of getting out of the bath. She happily starts slapping the water, sending water and bubbles everywhere. Osamu gets the brunt of the attack.

“You know, I didn’t like this shirt anyway” Osamu says, looking at the huge wet spot on the front of his work shirt.

Keiji laughs and Osamu can see the second the tension works its way out of Keiji’s body. The straight posture of his back softens, rounding out. His eyes crinkle in fondness. Even the air around him is a bit different, a bit lighter.

Osamu presses a kiss to the side of Keiji’s head. And then, because he knows that Sachi is going to get fussy if he doesn’t, he leans over into the tub and gives Sachi a kiss too. Osamu ends up with a mouthful of suds.

“I’ll start on dinner?” Osamu asks as he stands up. He can _feel_ the wet spot where he was sitting. He’s glad his pants are dark. “I’m going to change first. Then food.”

Keiji smiles. He turns on the bath again, running his hand under the water to check the temperature. Sachi still needs to be cleaned off from all the soap. “Sounds good.”

Sachi laughs with the incoming water. Osamu just knows that if given the chance, Sachi would spend the entire day in the water. He’s going to have to check back in after he’s changed, just to make sure Sachi is in fact being a good girl and getting out of the bath like she said she would.

Osamu leaves the two of them, comforted by the noise of Sachi’s amused giggles and Keiji’s softer, gentler laughter.

(He could come home to this everyday, when he really thinks about it.)

* * *

The fourth day of Sachi’s stay, both Keiji and Osamu have the day off. Technically, Keiji doesn’t have it off. But he woke up in the middle of a night with a blistering migraine and after Osamu had shoved him half of a banana (Because Osamu and his younger days of getting way too drunk with important things to do the next day knows that the only thing worse than a horrible hangover is taking medication on an empty stomach.) a glass of water, and some pain meds, decided to call in sick.

It was a good move. They had a slow morning, Osamu and Sachi. They left Keiji to sleep the pain away. (Keiji’s migraines, while sometimes random, are mostly driven by stress. A physical halting of his life, forcing him to slow down a bit. This is his third migraine this month.) Sachi, usually loud and boisterous at all hours, tried her best to keep her noise level down.

“For Keiji,” Osamu said, holding a finger to his mouth.

Sachi nodded, taking this mission seriously. She put her finger up to her own mouth. “For Keiji.”

By the time midday rolled around, Keiji was almost back to normal and so when Sachi became restless, tired of being cooped up in the apartment and drained from having to keep quiet, they decided to take a walk.

They’re in the park now, Sachi running a little bit ahead of the two of them. Periodically, she’ll stop her running and turn to make sure they are still following her. When her worries are smoothed over, she smiles at them, and then keeps running.

There aren’t many people in the park, but the people that are there all pay attention to her. It’s hard not to pay attention to a laughing toddler as cute as Sachi. Sachi’s emotions are infectious and they cause everyone around her to smile with her. Besides, Osamu put her hair in two little buns today and he was rather impressed with his handiwork. With the all blue ensemble her dads had packed for her today, she’s adorable. A runner passes them, her eyes wrinkling into a grin when she looks at Sachi, who has kneeled down in the ground in awe at a patch of grass growing through a crack in the pavement.

Yesterday, Osamu’s entire store cooed over the cuteness that was Sachi. Osamu had only worked a half shift, so Keiji and Sachi met them at the store when he finished for the day. Sachi, at first a little shy, had pressed her face into Keiji’s chest and refused to say hello to anyone. But with a little work and a promise of ice cream, soon Sachi was fawning under all the attention. The second she smiled, Osamu knew that everyone was just putty in her hands.

She seemed to know it, too. Sachi was naturally a bubbly baby, but she seemed to notice she was the center of attention and tried her best to play up her cuteness factor. She smiled a little more, giggled a little harder, even batted her eyelashes at one of the waiters which made the poor waiter clutch his chest with adoration.

Nazikian wasn’t working, which meant that Osamu’s phone was blowing up this morning with jokingly angry texts from her, demanding another visit during her working hours. Osamu had sent her a picture of a sleeping Sachi as retribution.

(He also sent that photo to her dads. They both thought it was insanely adorable.)

But because Nazikian wasn’t working, Osamu had no backup (Other than Keiji. But Keiji was backup because he was Osamu’s boyfriend. He held some sway over the store, just because of affiliation. But Nazikian was his right hand woman. When she told people to leave something alone, to clean the store again, to double check the inventory, they did.) when the inevitable hard questions about Sachi’s parentage comes up. Nazikian is quick to nip questions about Atsumu right in the bud.

“We are here for work,” Nazikian repeated every time some new hire asked a few too many questions, “not to gossip about some famous volleyball player.”

But Nazikian wasn’t here, so he had to field the questions himself.

Osamu settled with the simple answer: _she’s my niece_.

Of course, the follow up was _Miya Atsumu has a kid?_ Which Osamu laughed at, hopefully an answer within itself.

It worked, but did not at the same time. Nobody at work followed volleyball all that well, but it was hard to _not_ know who Miya Atsumu was, with his face plastered across a billion and a half sports ads in Japan. And it was even harder to not realize that Miya Osamu had the exact same face. And it was downright impossible not to put the pieces together when Atsumu showed up to Onigiri Miya and swung his arm over Osamu’s shoulder, pinched his cheek, and asked how his baby brother was doing.

So they knew Atsumu was his older twin brother. But they didn’t know that Sachi was Atsumu’s daughter. So when Osamu said _She’s my niece_ and then laughed about Atsumu being her dad, they could interpret it as they wanted. For all they knew, the Miya twins could have a hoard of siblings with an even bigger hoard of children. Osamu let them make whatever conclusions they wanted to. It was easier that way than outright lying.

(Easier than say, Atsumu’s hard work of keeping his public and private life distinctly separate because Osamu says some joke about Sachi being Atsumu’s daughter and then one of his workers posts something on Twitter about it and then it gets picked up by a major sports new source and the next thing you know, the secret of the Japanese sport’s world favorite charismatic playboy Miya Atsumu gets blasted throughout the world. Maybe Osamu should get everyone that works with him to sign an NDA.)

It was easier that way, it just was.

Osamu can’t really imagine what he would do with all the fame Atsumu has. Osamu knew at first, the thought of being famous thrilled Atsumu to his very core. Atsumu is prideful, a little vain, and the thought of everyone in Japan knowing his name was appealing. Atsumu didn’t play volleyball for the fame, but the fame was a nice perk.

But dreams are very different from reality. Atsumu and Osamu spent hours together on the phone when he and Kita had finally decided on officially trying for a kid.

“What if I fuck up?” Atsumu had said, voice quiet and tone serious. It was a sudden change of pace from the way he was so excitedly sharing the news a moment ago. Atsumu did that: flip from scalding hot to freezing cold and then back again in rapid succession. If Osamu hadn’t grown up with it— and if Osamu wasn’t also _slightly_ the same— he would have gotten whiplash. “What if I’m a bad dad?”

Osamu scoffed. “You’re going to fuck up, Tsumu.”

“Thanks for the boost of confidence, jackass.”

“You’re going to fuck up,” Osamu said again. “Everyone fucks up. You’re not perfect. But I think the fact you’re worried about messing up means you’ll do a good job. Mom and Dad probably messed up a lot, but we’re still fine. Besides, you have Kita. You both balance each other out: you’ll be fine.”

Atsumu laughed, but it didn’t sound as solid as his laughter usually did. It was high pitched and kind of pathetic. “Shin-chan’s a mess. He’s trying to act like he isn’t, but I know. He and granny are excited for the kid, even if right now they’re nothing more than a solid idea. I just— “ He trailed off and Osamu waited for him to continue.

“The kid’s gonna be watched their whole life,” he finally said. So this was what he was truly worried about. Atsumu and Osamu both were not the best when sharing their feelings. Atsumu pretended like he was, like he wore his heart on his sleeve and blurted out his emotions as they came. But in reality, he used those outbursts as a way to cover what he was truly feeling. Osamu was the opposite. He would sit there and insist and insist and insist everything was fine until it all became too much and he burst with all of emotions: the good, the bad, and the ugly.

It takes time for both of the Miya twins to realize their feelings.

They’re both working on that.

“Like, I’m so glad that Shin-chan’s off in the middle of the middle of nowhere,” Atsumu said and Osamu prepared himself for an Atsumu-ramble. Once Atsumu got going, he was impossible to stop. All Osamu could do was wait for him to run out of steam. “He’s really, really not the media type of person. Hell, the only reason that he has an Instagram is because I begged him to follow my account so I could reach one million followers. He doesn’t even post there, but sometimes I catch him looking through cat videos, which is really cute by the way. But yeah, I just know that Shin-chan would _hate_ being followed around by cameras or crazy fans or anything like that. Ya know that’s why I don’t let people know I’m married, because I know they would find Shin-chan and he doesn’t deserve to have his life looked at under a microscope just because of who he’s married to. I hate it, but I got used to it. The press and stuff really only ramps up around playoffs anyway and I’ve gotten pretty good at my disguises—”

(Osamu got it, he really did. Osamu and Atsumu are identical, aside from Atsumu’s bleached hair and their slightly different eye colors. Sometimes, when Osamu has a hat on and is dressed in clothes that Atsumu would be likely to wear, he gets stopped and asked for an autograph, a photo. It doesn’t happen often, but the first time it did, Osamu was so surprised he couldn’t even tell the ten year old boy he had the wrong Miya. Atsumu thought it was hilarious, and then apologized for it even happening in the first place, as if Atsumu could control something like that.)

Osamu tuned out Atsumu, letting out appropriate _mhm_ s and _yeah_ s every so often so it seemed as if he was being a good brother and listening to Atsumu. Osamu did not let his brain wander, though. He just tuned out the voice of Atsumu and let his mind go blank.

Finally, finally. Atsumu reached the end of his word vomit speech: “I just think I would be a very different person if I was dragged into the limelight before I was even born. I don’t want my kid to go through that.”

“Then don’t.” It was a simple solution in Osamu’s eyes. But he understood how easy it was to get tangled up in your own thoughts and forget about the possibilities that are right in front of you. “I mean, no one knows about Kita already. So just do the same thing.”

“Ah,” Atsumu said but it wasn’t really a word. It was just a choked noise that was cut off before it could even become a word. It was Atsumu pulling his words back and giving himself a moment to think. “I guess I could do that.”

“You’re Miya Atsumu. You can do anything you want to.”

“Not true,” Atsumu whined. Osamu could practically see the way Atsumu’s face was scrunching up. He always pulled the same face whenever he thought Osamu said something embarrassing. “But I get your point. I think I can do that.”

And Atsumu had done exactly that. To the general public, Miya Atsumu was the starting setter and number 13 on the MSBY Black Jackals, a member of the Japanese Olympic Volleyball team. A flirty, charismatic man who always played up the fanservice, was frequently rumored to be dating at least a handful of other celebrities, and whose face was almost on every Nike billboard in the country.

And back home he was Miya Atsumu, Osamu’s annoying older twin, one of two successful sons, a good husband to the rice farmer he pined a ridiculous amount over in high school, a father to one smiley and intensely smart toddler and three cats who spent the majority of their day laying in sun patches. Not the same amount of accolades, but the same Miya Atsumu.

A sob pulls Osamu away from his rather drawn-out thoughts. Ah, yes. He’s on a walk with Keiji and Sachi.

Sachi is a few steps ahead of them. He hadn’t seen her fall, but he did hear her cry out and it’s not hard to put two and two together. She’s on her knees, her hands out to cushion her fall. Osamu’s first thought is to panic _._ Was the fall bad? Did she cut her skin open? Atsumu is going to kill him if he returns his daughter to him all banged up.

But before Osamu can do anything about it, Keiji is there. “Sachi is okay,” he says in a comforting voice. He walks over to her and kneels down besides her. He puts a hand on her back. “Sachi’s okay. A fall like won’t stop Sachi from being strong, right?”

Sachi’s eyes are full of tears. She lets out another sob and then nods.

“So you’re okay?” Keiji asks. “Why don’t we stand up?”

Sachi blinks and the tears disappear just like that. Kids are tough, pliable things, Osamu remembers. They don’t have a good grasp on how to respond to situations. Kids learn through watching, acting as a mirror. So if Keiji and Osamu insist that she’s fine, then she must be fine.

Osamu’s glad he didn’t panic. (Glad Keiji is here.)

Keiji takes her hand and helps her up. Osamu then remembers that he’s also her uncle, also her guardian for the week, and should also be doing something. He walks over and helps Sachi dust off her clothes. Nothing is torn, but there are black marks from the concrete on the knees of her jeans. They’ll probably come off in the wash, so Osamu isn’t that worried. She probably gets more stains on her clothes from living on a farm.

Osamu pats her on the top of her head. “Ready to run some more?”

Sachi grins and it’s like the fall never happened. “Together?”

Osamu nods and stands up. “Tell me when to go.”

Sachi yells _Go_ before he can finish talking and then the two of them are taking off, Sachi running and running and Osamu jogging lightly in pace with her.

“Are you coming?” Osamu asks, looking back at Keiji. He has a smile on his face as he watches the two of them and Osamu instantly feels warm. Looking at Keiji does that to him.

“Yeah, yeah,” Keiji says, waving his hand at Osamu. “I’m coming.”

* * *

Sachi runs until she can’t. Osamu didn’t have the foresight to turn her around and then start running back in the direction in which they came in, which really is a rookie mistake. Because when Sachi gives up, she gives up.

She comes to a stop and then all but throws herself into the grass on the side of the pathway, face first. Osamu laughs and then sits himself next to her. He’s a bit winded, not going to lie. Sachi’s fast and running is more exhausting when you’re also trying to make sure your toddler is having a good time.

Sachi rolls over so she’s on her back. She’s breathing hard and her face is flushed. But she looks happy and smiles when Osamu pokes her at the one part of her stomach he knows she is the most ticklish at.

Keiji sits down on her other side a minute later. He never ran with them, choosing instead to watch them from afar as they tired themselves out. “Tired?”

“Yes,” both Osamu and Sachi answer at the same time.

Sachi giggles and gleams at Osamu. Osamu picks her up and Sachi laughs even more with the movement, wiggling every which way. Osamu holds her to his chest and then hugs her, just a bit too tight. She laughs again.

Eventually, Sachi settles into Osamu’s arms and falls asleep. The run must have really tired her out for her to be able to fall asleep without a single complaint, but Osamu isn’t the one to look a gift horse in the mouth. Sachi needs her naps, otherwise she turns into a personification of the terrible twos.

“She fell asleep faster than I thought she would,” Keiji says. He pushes his glasses up on his face and Osamu wants to remind him to make his appointment again. But he knows that all Keiji is going to do is reply with how busy he is.

It’s been nice, this forced break. Osamu doesn’t even remember the last time he was able to take a walk in the middle of the day. Back when Osamu and Keiji had first started dating, one of the only times they could meet up was during lunch time. They would eat their lunch together and then spend the rest of that short time holding hands and walking about the city.

Osamu realized he was in love with Keiji on one of these walks. It wasn’t a big moment or anything of the like. There was no certain way that Keiji was caught under the sunlight that made him realize he was in love. There was no one moment. It was a collection of moments, of all their time spent together. It happened slowly, gradually, until Osamu was filled to the brim with a strong, warm and almost overwhelming emotion he wasn’t quite sure how to name.

So he took those long lunches, held Keiji’s hand, went on their walks, and one day had a name for it: love.

Simple.

Falling in love with Keiji was simple. It was like that was how the world was supposed to be, presenting another fact of the universe for Osamu to take and implicitly understand.

But that was so long ago (Okay, so maybe not _that_ long ago. Osamu isn’t an old man quite yet.), and Osamu misses the freedom he was afforded when he was a bit younger. He misses being able to take a long lunch break just to hold Keiji’s hand and walk. He misses his thoughts not being a constant stream of work, work, and even more work.

Work is good, fulfilling. But it’s hard. And time-consuming. Both Osamu’s and Keiji’s job have them burning their candles on both ends. So this break, this forced time-out to take care of their niece— while Osamu would have preferred it to happen _not_ because of a family emergency— is nice. It’s needed.

Sachi mutters something in her sleep. Osamu rubs a hand on her back until her dream babbles quiet. Osamu takes his free hand (Luckily it’s the one next to Keiji), stretches it towards Keiji, and wiggles his fingers.

Keiji rolls his eyes but holds onto Osamu’s hand. His thumb rubs a soothing pattern up and down the back of Osamu’s hand. “You know,” he says after a moment.

“Mm?”

Keiji squeezes his hand. “We should take a vacation soon. Just the two of us. I’ve—” Keiji trails off. He watches the people around them as they walk by, all in their own little worlds. “I think we both need it.”

As usual, Keiji and Osamu are on the same page. Osamu thinks a vacation just for the two of them is exactly what they need. Rest, relax, have time to enjoy themselves.

“Yes, please.” Osamu nods. He tries to not be too forceful in his actions because the last thing he wants Sachi to do is wake up. Osamu is hoping that she’ll sleep for at least two hours.

But of course, Sachi stirs. She starts to fuss and Osamu is quick to shush her, take his hand away from Keiji, and rock her back to sleep. After a minute, she’s asleep again.

“Let’s walk back?” Keiji asks. He leans over and presses a kiss to Osamu’s temple before getting up.

Osamu agrees. He won’t be able to hold Keiji’s hand while he carries Sachi, but the walk together is enough. Osamu, incredibly in love, revels in the moment.

* * *

Osamu has a headache. It was slowly growing throughout the entire day, but now it’s here in all of its full, painful, and pounding glory. He excuses himself to the kitchen and downs some pain medication with a quick swig of orange juice.

It’s late. Keiji should have been here an hour ago, but he had a last minute problem come up and told Osamu to not stay up for him. And Osamu wasn’t planning on it: but Sachi is still up and Osamu is over it, really.

Osamu goes back into the living room where Sachi has been an inconsolable, sobbing mess for the past forty-five minutes. Osamu doesn’t know what’s wrong. She’s been in a mood the entire day, even refusing to give Keiji a wave goodbye when he left for work this morning. And then forty-five minutes ago, some emotional dam inside of her broke and she started crying. Osamu has tried to give her food, he’s changed her diaper, he’s tried to get her to sleep, he’s tried to play games with her, he’s tried to distract her with a Youtube video. He even put her in the bath, just to see if the water would do anything to calm it.

He had hoped the bath would work. He remembers a story from when he and Atsumu were about Sachi’s age and had a complete, total meltdown at a party. He wasn’t even sure what the meltdown was about, but their mother had told them she had no choice but to take them home and put them in the bath. The water had cooled them down and stopped their crying.

But the bath hadn’t worked. Nothing worked. And so Sachi is crying and Osamu is a little close to crying himself. He wants Keiji to be home from work already. Keiji would know what to do. And even if Keiji didn’t know what to do, he would be able to help Osamu from feeling shitty. Osamu’s brain is totally fried trying to figure out what Sachi is crying about.

The only thing that Osamu can do is wait for Sachi to tire herself out, which seems _so_ incredibly cruel. But he doesn’t know what else to do. He’s even googled _What to do when your two year old won’t stop crying_ and it only listed things he had already tried. The only thing that he can think of is if something in her body is hurting, but she isn’t acting like anything is hurting.

She’s just crying.

“Sachi, won’t you tell me what’s wrong?” Osamu asks. He grabs Sachi and she doesn’t even notice that he’s carrying her. She continues on crying while he sits down on the couch and moves her so she’s crying against his chest. He slowly bounces her, rubbing on her back in a rhythmic motion as he tries to calm her down. But she keeps crying.

Osamu starts crying then too. He’s not sobbing the same way that Sachi is, but he can’t help but let a few tears fall down his face in pure exhaustion.

This is so incredibly frustrating and Osamu feels _so_ bad for Sachi. She’s not the type of baby to cry just to cry. So she must be crying at _something_ and Osamu has no idea what it is. “Sachi what’s wrong?” Osamu asks again. “Why don’t we sleep?”

Sachi screams and she squirms, hitting Osamu square in the chest with her fists. Okay, yeah. No sleep. She somehow worms her way out of Osamu’s grasp and almost falls. It wouldn’t have been a bad fall, considering she would have just fallen into his lap. But a fall nonetheless.

She ends up sitting in his lap anyway, her hands covering her face as she continues to cry. Osamu takes her hands away from her face, worried that she might cut herself with her nails. And then he pauses.

Because she’s still crying. And she has a look on her face that Osamu knows. Because that’s an Atsumu face. That’s an _Osamu_ face. She’s missing someone.

He gets it. He totally understands why she’s crying now.

Sachi misses her dads. She misses them so much, has missed them since she woke up, and doesn’t have the words to describe it, so she just cries. Osamu gets it, really.

“Hey, Sachi,” Osamu asks. Sachi doesn’t stop crying, but he thinks he gets her attention. “Do you miss your dads? Is that what you’re crying about? Because you miss your dads?”

Sachi stops crying, for just a second. Her eyes open, watery and red. She takes in a breath and Osamu is so relieved that she’s stopped crying, at least for a moment. Of course, then she crumbles into Osamu’s chest and starts crying again, harder this time.

How has she not cried herself out already?

“Let’s call your dads,” Osamu says. He reaches for his phone in his back pocket and is relieved to find that it’s fully charged. Osamu has a terrible habit of forgetting to charge his phone, but thank _god_ today was not one of those days. “How does that sound? I can call them right now.”

Atsumu picks up on the second ring. It’s a video call, so the first thing that Atsumu sees is Osamu’s sweaty, slightly teary eyed face. “Is everything okay?” Atsumu looks alarmed and he has every right to be. Sachi is still crying.

“Yeah, your daughter misses you.” Osamu gets Sachi to sit back up on his lap but she doesn’t want to have to do anything with the phone. Every time Osamu tries to hand it to her, she screams.

“Sachi,” Atsumu says over the phone. His voice is low, soft, and comforting. Sachi doesn’t hear him over her own crying. “Hey Sachi, it’s Papa. Do you miss me? I miss you so much.”

There is some movement on Atsumu’s side and then Kita is there too, his eyes wide with concern. “Sachi, what’s wrong? Talk to me.”

Sachi stops crying almost immediately. Osamu wants to laugh at how quickly she grabs Osamu’s phone out of his hands and presses it close to her face. “Papa!” she yells. “Daddy!”

Her dads laugh. Osamu feels a little silly, now. He really should have anticipated that Sachi was going to miss her dads like this at some point during the week. Hanging out with her uncles might be cool and all (Because Osamu and Keiji are most assuredly the best uncles around), but they are never going to replace Sachi’s dads. And Osamu doesn’t want to, even if Atsumu jokes that Osamu is stealing Sachi away from him.

(Really, if anyone was to do any stealing of Sachi, it would be Keiji. She sticks to Keiji like glue.)

“We’re going to be there very soon to pick you up,” Kita says. He says his words slowly, but doesn’t use any baby talk. His words are calm and soothing and Sachi nods in understanding.

“When?” Sachi asks. She frowns and sniffles.

Kita smiles. Osamu just knows that Kita wants nothing more than to hold his daughter right now. “Really soon. I promise. Does that sound okay?”

Sachi nods, but she’s still frowning. She wants to be picked up _now_.

“You know we could—” Atsumu starts to say before being cut off by Kita.

“Soon,” Kita says again. If it was just up to Atsumu, Osamu knows Sachi would have already been picked up. “We still have a few things to finish and then we’ll go pick you up, Sachi. Are you having a good time with Osamu?”

“Yes!” Sachi giggles with her reply and it’s like she wasn’t even crying for a complete hour. Sure, she’s still sniffling a bit and her eyes are red and a bit watery, but she’s not the same toddler that was throwing her fists into Osamu’s chest just a few minutes ago.

Sachi and her dads go back and forth for a few minutes. Sachi tells them about everything they’ve been doing and even though her words don’t make total sense (When Sachi gets going, she tends to forget that words exist and goes on long, extended rambles consisting of random syllables. She’s only two, and while she might have started talking early, she hasn’t totally mastered language yet. It’s rather cute.), both her dads give her their full attention, nodding and asking questions as she goes.

Keiji comes home ten minutes after the call starts. Osamu leaves Sachi sitting on the couch, still babbling to the phone. She’s not holding the phone at the right angle for a video call, so she’s really just showing half of her face to her dads. Osamu had tried to correct her, but she didn’t let him.

“Hey,” Keiji says, voice low as to not get picked up by the call. Osamu wraps himself around Keiji before Keiji can even take off his coat. Osamu doesn’t care. He just wants to be held. Sachi might be doing better as she chats to her dads, but Osamu is exhausted still. The pain medicine kicked in a little while ago, so his head doesn’t hurt as much as before. But he still wants nothing more than to crawl into bed with Keiji and fall asleep for hours. “Is everything okay?”

“Mhm.” Osamu pulls himself tighter against Keiji. Keiji hugs Osamu back, one of his hands slowly making its way up and down Osamu’s back. Osamu puts his face into the crook of Keiji’s neck and sighs. “She was just crying a lot. She was missing her dads.”

Keiji nods. Osamu feels the movement. Keiji leans his cheek against Osamu’s head. “Five days is a long time to be away from your parents, especially at her age. I’m surprised she wasn’t crying about them sooner.”

Osamu sighs. Of course Keiji would automatically know how to fit all the pieces together. A part of him is bitter that Keiji wasn’t here to help him earlier. But then Keiji squeezes him again and Osamu breathes in the smell of Keiji’s cologne— it smells more like Keiji himself than his cologne since he’s been wearing it all day— and lets that thought slip away from his mind.

“Can you be a good girl for them?” Kita’s voice comes through the call. “Can you promise me that?”

“Promise,” Sachi replies.

Keiji kisses the side of Osamu’s head and tries to detangle himself from Osamu’s grasp. But Osamu doesn’t want to let him go quite yet. Osamu gets another twenty seconds of holding Keiji before grudgingly letting him go.

Keiji makes quick work of taking off his shoes and coat before going to the living room. Sachi brightens up at his appearance and waves him over so he can talk to her dads as well.

Keiji ruffles her hair and sits down on the couch next to Sachi. He says his hellos, asks how everything is going. And then he says, “Sachi, I think it's time for bed.”

Sachi starts whining the second the words leave Keiji’s mouth. “Don’t wanna.” She shakes her head. “Don’t wanna.”

Keiji laughs as Sachi continues to let out her displeasure with going to bed. Osamu is so glad that he is here. He doesn't know what he would do if Sachi started crying about going to bed as well. There is only so much that Osamu can handle.

“Sachi, please listen to Keiji,” Kita says. “You said you were a good girl, right? And good girls listen to their uncles.”

Sachi pouts, but doesn’t argue any more. Kita’s power of making the Miyas stop in their tracks seems to extend to his daughter too. A useful skill, Osamu muses.

After a few goodbyes, Keiji whisks Sachi away to get ready for the night. The phone gets passed to Osamu, who collapses on the couch the second Keiji and Sachi are in the other room. Kita gives him a small goodbye, excusing himself to do something. And then it’s just Atsumu and Osamu on the phone. Sachi somehow messed around with the buttons while Keiji took her away and turned the video call into a regular phone call. Not that Osamu is complaining, because face-to-face communication with his brother seems to be a bit too much to handle at the moment.

“How are you?” they both ask at the same time. They both let out small laughs, and then Osamu tells Atsumu to go first.

“Well the worst is over,” Atsumu says. He doesn’t sound nearly as off-kilter as he did a few days ago when they dropped off Sachi. It’s comforting to know that his brother is doing well. “Kita’s grandma didn’t break anything, but she bruised a few bones and needs some help getting around the house.” Atsumu laughs at something and then fires, “ _She’s so damn stubborn,_ Samu. Like, so stubborn. Are all old people that stubborn? Are mom and dad going to be that stubborn when they get older?”

Osamu laughs. He doesn’t have a lot of first-hand experience dealing with Kita’s grandmother, but the bits and pieces he’s picked up from over the years of being Kita’s teammate and then Kita’s brother-in-law are enough for Osamu to form a small picture of Kita’s grandmother. She’s strong, caring, a little harsh, and incredibly stubborn.

“I’m just grateful it’s the off season,” Atsumu continues. “I’m glad that I’m here to help. I think Shin-chan could have done it himself if he needed to, but it’s nice being home, ya know? I don’t think doing it by himself would have been good anyway. Plus I don’t think anyone on the team would have been happy with me, but if this happened mid season I think I just would have packed up my stuff and left.”

Osamu rolls his eyes. Atsumu is so dramatic. Osamu doesn’t think he would actually do that; he doesn’t think that Kita would _let_ Atsumu do that. But it’s the thought that counts.

“Actually, Shin-chan wouldn’t have let me do that,” Atsumu says and yup, that’s exactly what Osamu was just thinking. Atsumu continues talking about how everyone is doing. It seems like the one who needs the most support is Kita, which Osamu can understand. Kita loves his grandmother something fierce. Osamu can hear when Atsumu starts to get all droopy eyed when he talks about Kita. It’s cute, really. Atsumu always gets like this when he talks about Kita, whether it be when he was still refusing the idea of having a crush on their upperclassman to when they were finally dating.

Atsumu coughs, as if he’s noticed how worked up he got himself. “Anyway, how’s taking care of Sachi? She causing too much trouble?”

Osamu shrugs. “Actually it’s been pretty great. I love her.”

“She’s an easy baby, huh?” Atsumu sounds smug, like _Hey, look. My child is wonderful and you can’t take that away from me._ _I did that._

“I mean, other than her having a total meltdown because she was missing you two today, then yeah. She’s an easy baby.”

Atsumu laughs. “So how are you holding up? No offense Samu, but you kind of looked like a mess earlier.”

Osamu pauses. He knows he looks like a mess. He just spent the last hour trying to get Atsumu’s child to stop crying and ended up completely frustrated in the process. But he knows that’s not what Atsumu is trying to point out. Something heavy sits in his chest.

“You work too hard,” Atsumu says.

Osamu sputters. _He?_ Osamu is the one to work too hard? Has Atsumu looked into a mirror? If anything, Atsumu is the one that pushes himself almost to his breaking point, time and time again, because he feels like if he doesn’t do that, nothing good is going to come out of it.

“Shuddup,” Atsumu says, cutting through Osamu’s thoughts. “I know I do the same thing, why do you think I’m talking about it? I’m not trying to be a hypocrite here, I’m just trying to tell you to take it easy. I have off-seasons. You’re just go, go, go all the damn time. What happens when you burn yourself out?”

Osamu stays quiet. What _happens_ when he burns himself out? When he goes too far and there aren’t enough pieces of himself left to recover? He never thought about it until this week. He never had the chance to think about until this week, when he had a baby forced into his lap and had to reorganize his priorities.

“Like yeah man, this isn’t the best reason to take a break. I mean, I’m pretty sure Shin-chan had a bit of a breakdown that first day while we were waiting to hear from the doctor. But a break is a break, right? Sachi kinda takes all of your attention.”

Osamu sighs. “She does do that.”

“You know,” Atsumu says. His voice sounds tight, like he’s unsure of how to collect his thoughts and put them into words. “We’ve talked more this week than we have in like, four months.”

That’s not true. That can’t be true. Atsumu and Osamu talk on a weekly basis, at least. They might not live in the same place anymore, but they’re only a phone call away from each other. “You’re just staying stuff now.”

Atsumu laughs. “Believe whatever you want, Samu. I’m just trying to say I miss you without getting all mushy about it. But apparently your dumbass needs me to spell everything out for you.” Atsumu’s words are biting, but only in the way that comes from years of teasing each other.

“I miss you too,” Osamu replies. Okay, so maybe if he thinks about it a bit more, Atsumu and him haven’t been the best at keeping up with each other. It’s not really… intentional. Osamu hasn’t purposefully ignored Atsumu since they graduated high school. But Atsumu has an entire family and work and Osamu has his restaurant, which really is like having a kid.

And Osamu has been busy. Too busy. He knows this.

Sometimes Atsumu knows him better than he knows himself. It comes with the territory of being a twin, but the realization always shocks Osamu, no matter how many times he realizes it.

“I’m glad I can take a break,” Osamu finally says. “Keiji and I were thinking about going on a trip, too. It’ll be good to relax.” The more Osamu talks about this trip, the more he desperately wants to go on it. The idea of it just being him, Keiji, and nothing else is incredibly appealing.

“Relax, right,” Atsumu snorts. “You mean just have a lot of sex. Which like, good for you. That is a very good way to destress.”

Osamu rolls his eyes. “I’m going to hang up now.”

“Well I have to go, too.” Atsumu is smiling through the phone, Osamu can just tell. “I’ll text you when me and Shin-chan figure out when we’ll be there.”

“Yeah, yeah. Just let me know with enough time so I can feed her a bunch of sugar and then leave you to deal with the aftermath.”

“You’re a horrible uncle.”

“I’m the best uncle,” Osamu clarifies.

“Please don’t overdose my daughter on sugar,” Atsumu replies. “Just don’t.”

“No promises can be made, but I’ll take that into consideration.”

“You’re the worst brother, too. Anyway, I actually _do_ have to go. So I’ll talk to you later?”

Osamu rolls out his shoulders. “Goodnight.”

“Love you,” Atsumu says. “You have to say it back now.”

“I was going to say it back anyway,” Osamu whines. There is something about talking to Atsumu for extended periods of time that makes Osamu feel like he’s twelve again in the best possible way. “Love you too.”

“Night, Samu.”

“Good night.”

And then the call is over. Osamu puts his phone down on the couch. And then he sprawls out on the couch, burying his face into the pillows. He lets himself drown in the fabric, just for a bit, before he rolls himself around and lays down on the couch like a normal person would.

Sometimes talking to Atsumu is like looking into one of those funhouse mirrors, where they stretch and shift your body around until you’re convinced that you’re not actually looking at yourself. Atsumu will say something and Osamu will completely disagree.

But sometimes talking to Atsumu is like looking into one of those ultra high definition mirrors that let you see everything about yourself, down to the very last pore. It’s uncomfortable, seeing yourself in such a light. It always leaves Osamu reeling.

He’s reeling now.

Osamu starts planning the trip. He doesn’t know exactly where Keiji and he are going, but planning their theoretical trip is nice, soothing. They’d go somewhere where there was no light pollution, so they could sit outside together and watch the stars. They’d—

Sachi screams, a playful yet loud sound that shocks Osamu out of his thoughts.

“Osamu, I think I need a little help here.”

Osamu sits up. Keiji is standing behind the couch, holding Sachi upside down by the ankles. She’s giggling, even though her face is turning red.

“Help?” Osamu asks.

Keiji nods. His face is pinched together like he’s trying hard not to laugh. “Help.”

Keiji tries to turn Sachi right-side up but all she does is scream again until he lets her hang upside down. Ah, so that’s the problem.

Osamu gets off the couch, laughing all the while.

* * *

Sachi loves cooking. She probably gets the trait from Kita, as Atsumu likes to think he knows how to cook, but in actuality ends up burning water more than half of the time. Osamu can see Sachi and Kita preparing dinner together, though, in the long stretches when Atsumu is away.

It would be a little bit like now, where Sachi thinks she is helping, but is really just playing around. She's sitting on the floor, a plate of already cut up vegetables in front of her. She has an intense look in her eyes as she stabs the food with a fork. The vegetable rolls away and Sachi chases after it with her fork, stabbing all the way.

She finally gets it after a few tries, and smiles as she shows Osamu her work. “I did it!”

“You got it!” Osamu cheers. He holds a small bowl up to her. “Why don’t you put it in the bowl now?”

Sachi debates with herself for a second. She hovers her fork over the bowl and then draws it back to herself. She shakes her head. “No. Mine.”

Osamu smiles and sets the bowl down. “Okay. Are you going to eat it?”

Sachi has already stuffed the food into her mouth.

Osamu turns his attention back to the food on the stove, half an eye on Sachi as she makes her way through the vegetables. She doesn’t eat any more— which is good because he really would rather her eat the dinner than fill herself up on snacks. Normally, Sachi doesn't sit with Osamu as he cooks. But today Keiji brought a good stack of work home and he is currently sitting on the couch, making his way through the last pieces of it.

"Your dads come tomorrow," Osamu says. Sachi, predictably, stops everything she is doing at the mere _mention_ of her dads. She has been fine since being able to talk to them, but Osamu knows that she's done with him and Keiji. He takes no offense to it. She's two and she wants to go home. It's all understandable.

"They're going to be here in the morning to pick you up," Osamu continues. He stirs the sauce in the pan before turning off the heat. "Are you ready?"

Sachi says _Yes_ before Osamu finishes his question. "Yes yes yes!" she repeats and she bobs her head with each one of her words.

"Woah, woah. Did you even have a good time here?"

"Yes," Sachi replies, but her answer lacks all the enthusiasm as her previous _Yes_. At least she's trying to be polite, even if she doesn't quite get there. Kita is definitely teaching his daughter manners.

"Took you a while to think about that," Osamu teases. "That's kinda mean."

Sachi pouts. "Not mean. You mean."

"I'm not mean." Osamu shakes his head. "I'm nice. And you're very very nice too. I was just joking." Osamu kneels next to Sachi. "Want to know who is the nicest, though?" He tells Sachi to come closer and she does, her eyes wide with interest. It's as if they're sharing the most important secret in the world. "Keiji is the nicest."

"Keiji _is_ the nicest," Sachi repeats, nice and loud. Osamu shushes her, an idea popping into his head.

"Do you want to go on a mission for me?" Osamu asks. "It's really important."

Sachi nods.

Osamu nods as well. "Can I trust you?" He waits for Sachi to nod again and then he gives Sachi his super important, top secret mission. She giggles with the information and then gets up and rushes to complete it, the vegetables and the fork long forgotten.

Osamu starts cleaning the kitchen. He's one of those clean as you go people (Really, at this stage in his life, if Osamu _doesn't_ clean as he goes, then something is going horribly, terribly wrong.), so there's not much to clean other than the plate Sachi was using.

Sachi runs back into the kitchen as Osamu is washing the last plate. "Back!" she announces.

Osamu turns off the water and turns to face her. "That was fast."

"Come," she says and gestures for Osamu to come near her.

Osamu dries off his hands and kneels down. "Is this a secret message for me?"

"Secret secret," she says. Sachi cups her hands together and presses them against Osamu's ear. "Is dinner ready?" she asks.

Osamu laughs. Of course he would send Sachi on a super secret mission to tell Keiji that he loves him and then Keiji would send her back asking about food. Osamu scoops Sachi up and tickles her. She laughs, half-heartedly trying to push his hands away.

Keiji walks into the kitchen. He's wearing his 'comfortable' clothes that he only wears when he's working from home. Osamu has begged him multiple times to just throw out those clothes already. There is no reason to keep a pair of sweatpants that have multiple holes in them, but Keiji insists that he's never going to find clothes as comfortable as those ones. So he keeps them, holes and all. "Dinner?"

Osamu lets Sachi down and she stumbles, still wheezing with her laughter. She holds onto Osamu's leg for balance.

"Dinner is, in fact, ready."

Keiji smiles and then he's kissing Osamu, soft and sweet. It's not a long kiss, but Osamu really wants it to be. He wants to wrap himself around Keiji and swallow him whole. But he can't do that. For one, Sachi is shaking Osamu's leg, successfully capturing all of his attention.

Osamu gives Keiji two more kisses before pulling apart. Sachi keeps shaking his leg, gaining more intensity in her actions with every passing second.

"Kiss," Sachi says. "Please?"

Osamu lets out a laugh through his nose and picks her up. He settles her on his hip and then presses a gigantic kiss to her cheek.

She giggles but pushes Osamu away. "No, no. Keiji kiss."

Osamu gasps, pretending to be surprised. "I want a Keiji kiss too." Osamu looks at Sachi and then is a moment of understanding that passes through them. Osamu presses their faces together so they are cheek to cheek. Then they both look at Keiji, pouting.

Keiji sighs. "You're both so clingy," he says, but then he leans in and kisses them both. Sachi basks with the affection.

"It's the Miya charm," Osamu says. "You just can't resist it."

"I'm going to set the table," Keiji says. Before anyone (Read: Sachi) says anything about it, Keiji leans in again and kisses them both once more. "Go get the food ready."

Osamu's heart breaks, just for a half of a second. He's going to miss their little family, when Sachi is gone and it's just the two of them again. But then Sachi becomes a restless worm, trying to wiggle her way out of Osamu's grasp. And then Osamu has to worry about her, and then the food, before he can worry about anything else.

* * *

Sachi is still asleep by the time Atsumu and Kita arrive to pick her up. She didn’t even wake up when Osamu had taken her out of her futon and she’s certainly not awake now as Kita holds her.

It was predictable. Last night, neither Osamu nor Keiji could get to her to fall asleep when it was bedtime. She just kept jumping around, full of excited energy.

“Home, home, home!” she said after the third time she had gotten out of her bed and came into Osamu’s and Keiji’s bedroom. They had just let her stay up at this point, squeezed in between the two of them as they watched a sitcom that Keiji liked on his laptop.

She fell asleep eventually, but much much later than she normally slept. And so it’s not really all that surprising when Sachi sleeps through her parents’ arrival.

“She’s going to be upset when she realizes she wasn’t able to say goodbye to you two,” Kita says, voice low. They’re all talking in hushed tones to make sure Sachi doesn’t wake up. Sachi, as if she knows she’s being talked about, starts mumbling in her sleep. Kita leans his cheek against her head and says some soft words that Osamu doesn’t catch. But then Sachi settles back into Kita’s arms and goes back to peacefully sleeping.

“It’s better that she sleeps now,’ Atsumu says. He’s looking at Kita and Sachi with such a fond look on his face that Osamu can’t even tease him about it. He looks at them as if they hold his entire heart in their hands. “She’ll be cranky in the car ride if we wake her up now.”

Osamu thinks back to when Atsumu had first floated the idea of him being a dad. It seemed absurd at the moment, almost like Atsumu had declared he was going to grow a second head. But fatherhood suits him. It’s in the small things: the looks he gives Kita and his daughter, the proud way he talks about Sachi’s latest accomplishment. It’s in the way he holds the baby bag with all of Sachi’s stuff, like he’s carried it a million and a half times before and is prepared to carry it for as long as he needs to.

They say bye to Sachi quietly, softly. Not wanting to say goodbye quite yet (Really, Osamu could have this kid with him for the rest of the month and he wouldn’t be able to have enough time with her. He really needs to move closer to Hyogo, or at least spend some more time there.), but knowing that they have to.

Osamu kisses the back of her head and ruffles her hair. Keiji does the same, but he presses one more kiss to her hair before pulling away. Osamu’s heart squeezes as he watches how delicate Keiji is with her. They both love her, don’t they?

Atsumu and Kita are almost overwhelming with their thanks. Kita even says that he’s going to send the next shipment of rice for free. Osamu turns him down immediately.

“You really don’t have to do all that,” Osamu says. He rubs at the back of his head. “You’re family. Of course we’re going to try our best to help each other.”

“It’s no worry, really,” Keiji inputs. “Sachi is a good kid.”

“Plus I always love a chance to spoil my niece,” Osamu adds.

Atsumu rolls his eyes and Osamu knows if they weren’t trying to keep quiet for Sachi’s sake, he would have slugged Osamu in the arm. Instead, Atsumu just sighs.

Kita looks between Osamu and Atsumu, a small smile on his face. “Don’t worry,” he says, “Atsumu already spoils her enough.”

“Hey—” Atsumu protests, whiny and petulant. And then Sachi starts stirring in Kita’s arms and he falls silent. He puts a hand on her head and shushes her. “Go back to sleep, baby. Papa will be more quiet.”

They take that as their cue to leave. Atsumu and Kita thank them again (And really, if they thank them _one_ more time Osamu is going to throw a fit. He knows they’re just trying to express their gratitude. But really, taking care of his niece is something that Osamu actively enjoys doing.), and then with one last look at Sachi, they’re gone.

The apartment is quiet. Real quiet. It’s not as if they were partially loud when the four of them were talking. The loudest of them was asleep. But it’s funny how quickly one can get used to having a little kid around. Osamu feels sad, but not in a bad way. He feels sad because he wishes he could have more time with Sachi, because he liked having a kid around. Because it felt nice, happy, _right._

Keiji comes from behind Osamu and wraps his arms around him. He buries his head into Osamu’s back and then starts slowly pulling Osamu back towards their bedroom. Osamu lets himself get dragged. “Let’s go back to bed,” Keiji says, voice soft as if he doesn’t want to break the stillness that has settled in the air. “It’s still early.”

The bed is still warm when they crawl back in. They move themselves so they’re face to face with each other, limbs tangled. This is Osamu’s favorite way to sleep, where he can wake up and see Keiji’s calm, sleepy expressions.

“I’m serious about that trip,” Keiji says, eyes closed. His voice is filled with sleep, small and honest. “I want to go on it. Sooner rather than later.”

“Yeah,” Osamu says. “We can start planning it.”

“Good,” Keiji says. He worms his way closer to Osamu until he’s tucked himself under Osamu’s chin. Their breaths sync. In, out. In, out.

Osamu should be going to sleep. It’s early and he doesn’t work until later in the day. But Osamu knows he is not going to be able to sleep, not now. He’s thinking too much.

“Do you think we’re going to have kids?”

The words come out of Osamu’s mouth without him realizing it. But then they’re out there and it makes sense. The last puzzle piece coming and bringing the entire thing together. Of course Osamu misses Sachi. He loves his niece more than words will ever be able to describe, but all this week has done is shown Osamu that he needs a break and that he really wants a kid.

Osamu and Atsumu have always been intensely competitive with each other. They were each other’s first rivals in the world. Whatever Atsumu had accomplished, Osamu had to as well, whether it was in school or in volleyball or in how many cookies they could shove into their mouths in a minute.

(It was 12. Osamu’s record. He gave himself a headache with the sugar overload, but it was well worth it.)

But there was something about growing up that wasn’t competitive anymore. When Atsumu got together with Kita, when he first went pro, when he got married, when he had their daughter. Osamu felt happy, proud. But not jealous. He didn’t have any part of him that wanted to do things the same way.

They were still twins, they were always going to twins. But they have different lives now, to the point where drawing comparisons between them is just silly. They aren’t at the same level— aren’t ever going to be at the same level— because they are playing two entirely different games.

So Osamu hasn’t thought about kids in a concrete way. Kids were Atsumu’s business. Existed only on Atsumu’s level, in Atsumu’s life.

But maybe kids were something that Osamu wanted too. Thinking that thought, it makes sense. Osamu does want kids. With Keiji. He wants to see Keiji with a baby, his baby, _their_ baby.

Keiji hums into Osamu’s chest. “I think that would be really nice,” he says, more of a mumble than proper words. He moves so his head is in the crook of Osamu’s shoulder. Keiji presses a kiss to Osamu’s neck and Osamu nearly explodes.

He’s really not going to be able to go to sleep now. Osamu shifts so Osamu is leaning over Keiji. Keiji whines about him moving too much, but then Osamu presses their lips together and kisses Keiji silly.

“Why—” Keiji says in between kisses, but Osamu doesn’t let him get more than a word out. Osamu feels so full: full of emotion, feelings, adoration. The only way he is able to keep himself together is by kissing Keiji.

Osamu kisses across Keiji’s jaw, his kisses wet and open-mouthed. His hands wind their way down Keiji’s body, his touch light and fleeting. Osamu kisses behind Keiji’s ear, laughs as he squirms, and then kisses down his neck.

Keiji pushes at Osamu’s shoulder. “You’re being ridiculous.”

Osamu smiles and rests his head on Keiji’s stomach. He moves his hands down Keiji’s sides, over his shirt, laughing as Keiji squirms. He’s always been the more ticklish of the two. “Should we go to bed?” Osamu’s hands keep moving, pressing into the dips of Keiji’s hips and then tugging on the waistband of his boxers.

Keiji winds a hand through Osamu’s hair. And tugs. “That’s not what I said.” Keiji's eyes are dark, a small smirk on his face.

It _has_ been an entire week. Talk of their trip, future kids, the idea of work.

Those all can wait.

The heat that’s curling around in Osamu’s stomach? Not so much.

* * *

Osamu is going to be late for work and it’s entirely Atsumu’s fault.

It’s not as if Atsumu knows his work schedule. Or as if Atsumu knew that the text message would stop Osamu in his tracks. It is entirely Osamu’s fault for opening the message now and not after work.

Nevertheless, it’s still Atsumu’s fault. It’s just how things in this life work.

“Keiji,” Osamu says, shoes already half on. He’s watched the video Atsumu had texted him two times already, but he needs Keiji to watch it too. Osamu steps out of his shoes and treks back to the bathroom where Keiji is just getting out of the shower.

“You’re supposed to be at work,” Keiji says, pulling a towel around himself. The air is hot and humid from the shower, the entire mirror fogged up.

“I know, I know,” Osamu says and then he presses play on the video and hands his phone over to Keiji. Keiji, without his glasses, has to hold it close to his face in order to see it.

“I-I-I _never!”_ Sachi sobs. She’s a mess of tears and snot, thrashing around in her carseat. Atsumu is the one behind the camera and the video shakes with Atsumu trying not to laugh. The truck is pulled over somewhere, probably somewhere near home if the countryside visible through the windows are anything to go by. “Say bye to _Keiji!”_ Sachi dissolves into another round of sobs and Atsumu’s laughter filters through.

“What about Osamu?” Kita asks. He doesn’t sound concerned over his daughter’s crying.

 _She just woke up,_ Atsumu’s text message reads below the video. _Lol_

“No!” Sachi yells amidst her crying. And then she starts crying about Keiji again, his name getting lost in the way she’s working herself up.

“It’s okay,” Kita says. “We said goodbye to Keiji, but you were sleeping.”

Sachi frowns, still crying. She screams, “Hate sleep!”

The video loops.

Keiji hands the phone back to Osamu, blushing. “I can call her. To say goodbye.”

Osamu smiles.

Keiji hits him lightly with the back of his hand. “Stop smiling. Aren’t you supposed to be at work?”

“You know, with all the attention you give Sachi, our kid is going to have some steep competition.” Osamu puts his phone in his pocket, inching his way towards the door. He really does have to leave now, but he’s already going to be late. What’s a few more minutes?

(Nazikian yelling at him, that’s what is a few more minutes. But that happens regardless of what Osamu does.)

Keiji sighs and adjusts his towel. “Our kid isn’t going to have any competition. What are you even talking about?”

There is something so appealing about the easy way _our kids_ rolls off of both of their tongues. Osamu feels giddy. “Say it again,” he says.

Keiji’s face scrunches up in confusion. “What?”

“Say it again?”

“What do you want me to say?” Keiji asks. “Our kid?” Osamu grins and Keiji sighs. “You’re going to be late for work.”

Osamu shrugs. He’s not going to argue with that. If there is anything that this week has taught him, is that life is best when taken slow, when your priorities are the people around you. “I’m going to kiss you now.”

Keiji rolls his eyes, says once more _You’re going to be late for work_ , and then kisses Osamu first.

(Osamu is, in fact, very late to work. But, in the grand scheme of things, does that really matter?)

**Author's Note:**

> you can find me on [twt](https://twitter.com/JINClTY) and [tumblr](http://onceand-forall.tumblr.com/) to talk about all things sachi, osamu, and keiji related! (and all of hq, really.) 
> 
> you can also find the behind the scenes (my thoughts behind the idea of this fic, my own commentary, scenes that didn't make the cut) on my [dreamwidth](https://onceand-forall.dreamwidth.org/592.html)!! 
> 
> thanks for reading :^) 
> 
> once


End file.
